Steelecrets and Lies
by callafallon
Summary: Remington and Laura both have their share of secrets that they never told their daughter. Now an adult, Sabrina Steele has a few secrets of her own. But a new case is going to send the family on a collision course with the truth.
1. Chapter 1

Remington Steele never could watch the rows of televisions that lined the wall of the gym. Laura had always admonished him on his inability to multi-task, especially as she would effortlessly track down leads on a case while taking their daughter to soccer practice, but he would counter that quality was more important that quantity. "I thought you appreciated my devotion and single mindedness," he would tease, "I remember in Ireland when…"

She would shoot him a look that should have been angry, but her sly smile gave away her true feelings. It had been over 21 years since their impromptu marriage, and yet he had yet to experience a moment of regret. There was no seven-year-itch, or even seventeen year itch. Just the realization of the life he had always wanted as a child. He finally had his dream family.

It was as he thought about how lucky he was that the image on one of the television screens caught his eye. It was one of those tabloid news shows with camera thrust into the faces of celebrities. He didn't want to call them actors, since that seemed to sully the names of the great screen icons of the golden age of cinema. No, these were talentless faces that would be replaced next year by new models of equally dubious distinction.

That was the moment that he realized the talentless face that currently held the screen was his 20 year old daughter who was wearing a dress so short that she must have bought it in the children's department. Remington Steele was about to fall off the end of the tredmill when he quickly lept up and pushed the emergency stop button.

"She has that effect on people," the man on the machine next to his piped up and he pointed at the television screen. "Did you see that Maxim with her on the cover? I had to buy a few copies of it so that I didn't wear one out."

"Do you know what they're saying about her," he asked, trying to pretend he hadn't heard the man's previous comment.

"There's a rumor about a sex tape coming out with her and… well, I guess it could be anyone really."

Steele sighed deeply. "Thanks," he said as he tapped the stop button on the other man's treadmill, causing him to lurch forward and lose his footing. Remington smiled slightly at the image of the guy who had been leering at his daughter flat on the ground, but ultimately it was hollow. After all, his only child seemed to thrive off having the attention of men. It hadn't always been that way. In fact, for most of her life she had been something of a tomboy who was more comfortable climbing trees and throwing punches then wearing makeup and preening for the cameras. But at some point that had all changed, and he found himself more likely to see her in the tabloids than at the dinner table. He wanted nothing more than to take her and lock her away until she came to her senses, but she was an adult, and there wasn't much he could do except sit by and watch her ruin her life.

But, he told himself as he grabbed his cell phone, he didn't have to do it silently.

"Sabrina Holt Steele," he said gravely into his cell phone, "We need to talk."

/

Sometimes Laura had to struggle to remember how this had all started. The day that she created Remington Steele was perfectly clear in her mind, but it seemed like it had happened to someone else. The desperation and fear that motivated her then had long dissipated. These days she wasn't interested in proving to the world that she didn't need anyone else. She was happy leaving the danger and dirt of detective work to the number of associates that Remington Steele investigations had gained through the years. She'd come in every day to supervise the case work and offer her advise. Mostly though, she'd just sit in the office she shared with her husband and worked on maintaining the mythos they had created. Appointments with high profile politicos, meetings to get new clients, and the endless parade of journalists who wanted to have Remington Steele's opinion on any news story that had a crime element.

She shuffled through the papers on their desk, letting her eyes linger on the collection of family photos that stared back at her. Her and Remington Steele's second wedding, the real one, they had planned after their return from Ashford castle. A picture of Sabrina in her cap and gown at graduation. And, her favorite, the picture of newborn Sabrina being held by her father.

Laura had been unconscious when the picture was taken. While her pregnancy had been completely uneventful the delivery had been touch and go as the doctors struggled to save Mother and child. The last thing remembered before she had passed out was two orderly pulling Remington from the room as he tried to fight them off and stay with her. An hour later Sabrina was stabilized and Laura was still in critical condition. Nobody knew if she was going to make it, and it was clear from the picture that her husband had been crying. His face was unshaven, eyes bloodshot and puffy. But as he held his newborn daughter there was an image of peace that radiated from him. The man who had spent his life running away from responsibilities was now happily tied down to the women in his life.

When Laura was stable the next day she held her daughter in her arms while Remington sat on the bed holding her. The perfect picture of a family, but there was an unspoken heaviness in the air. "I'm sorry," Laura finally said.

He knew the reason for her apology but he waved it off. "Don't be sorry. I'm just happy that you're okay. I couldn't care less about having more children."

"Be honest. You aren't disappointed you're not going to have a son to carry on your name?"

He chuckled, "It's your name, remember?" She laughed; sometimes she forgot that he wasn't really Remington Steele. "Speaking of names, what are we going to call her?"

"I'm up for suggestions," Laura said, "but I'm not naming her after some movie. So you can forget about having a little Scarlett O'Hara Steele or Holly Golightly Steele or…"

"How about Sabrina?" he suggested.

"Isn't that a movie?" Laura pondered. He shook his head, assuredly.

"No, it's from a poem by Milton."

"Sabrina Steele," she repeated a few times, "It's perfect." It really was perfect, so much so that eight months later when Laura discovered the name also was a title of an Audrey Hepburn movie she didn't demand they change it.

"Mrs. Steele," the intercom buzzed, "There's someone here to see you."

"I don't think I had an appointment until 10."

"No," Anna, the receptionist whispered, "He's with Interpol. He says it's important."

Laura tapped her fingers on the desk, "Well, if it's that important send him in."

When the door opened there was an impeccably dressed young man with light brown hair and a wide smile. "Good Morning Mrs. Steele," he said in a clipped British accent, "I hope I'm not intruding on anything."

"Always glad to help out Interpol," she said warmly while slyly sizing him up. He couldn't be older than 25, too young to be handing his own cases. "I do need to see some identification."

"Of course," he handed her what appeared to be a perfectly legitimate badge and card. But looks could be deceiving. She motioned for him to take a seat while she sat behind the desk, quickly pulling typing his name into the computer and relaxing when it verified his story.

"Well, Agent Chambers, how can we help you today?"

He leaned forward, flashing her a smile. "I've heard that your agency is quite adept at matters involving art theft." For a moment her eyes widened, but she quickly controlled it.

"I mean in stopping art theft," he corrected, "Security and the rest of it."

"Of course. Yes, we do have quite a bit of experience when it comes to security. But usually it's art museums and collectors who are looking for out services. Not Interpol."

"Well, this is a complicated case," he admitted. His eyes caught on one of the pictures on her desk. "I'm sorry, but who is that girl with you. She looks so familiar."

"My daughter works as a model," Laura explained, annoyance clear in her voice. She loved her daughter, but she had hoped that someone with Sabrina's brains and abilities wouldn't be using her looks to get by. It was annoying to think that after she had tried so hard to be respected as a woman in a man's world, her child seemed intent on being nothing more than a pretty face. "You've probably seen her through that."

"I'm sure that's it." He chuckled to himself as he began explaining his reason for being here.

/

"No thanks," Sabrina told herself as she saw her father's name on her phone's caller id. It wasn't even 10 AM yet, and she didn't believe in dealing with disappointment before lunchtime. And there was no doubt that the conversation with her father will be filled with disappointment.

Collapsing back on her sleigh bed, she let her hair fall into her face to block the sunshine seeping in through the sheer drapes. As much as she wanted to sleep she knew it was impossible. She was booked for two interviews before noon and then a photo shoot in the afternoon. Not to mention she still needed to squeeze in a trip to the gym and a fitting for her Golden Globes gown. On top of it she still was going to have to deal with the fallout from the sex tape rumors, which had seemed like a good idea at the time. Those were her famous last words. There was another sit down with her parents coming in her future, she could feel it, and it filled her with dread. No, today wasn't going to be pretty. So it was nice to take a few moments lying under the covers and pretending that it was all a dream.

The phone kept ringing and she picked it up, not even opening her eyes. "Steele here," she muttered. There was a pause as she listened to the man on the other side of the conversation. "I really don't have time today, unless it is important." She chuckled at his answer, "I know, with you it's always important. I'll meet you at the office, just give me a half hour."

/

Laura heard the office door slam shut and smiled at her husband, but only for a moment. He wasn't in another expensive suit, but a pair of shorts and a white t-shirt. "What's wrong?"

"Sabrina," he grumbled, "Do you know what she's gone and got herself into now?"

"Probably nothing she can't handle. What are you doing dressed like that?"

He kept pacing back and forth, like a caged animal. "I'm at the gym…"

"Dr. Harris will be glad to hear that. Now if you'd just go on that low fat diet."

"…and I look up and our daughter is dressed like some type of… cheap floozy…"

Laura rolled her eyes, "I don't believe it. Sabrina would never dress cheaply. An expensive floozy maybe."

"... and everyone is talking about some tape being leaked on the internet. And I swear to God, Laura, I'll kill whoever the bastard is that…" He kicked the wall and immediately regretted it.

"Calm Down," she said, helping him to the couch. Sitting next to him she took her hand is his and took a deep breath. "Now, have you asked Sabrina about any of this?"

"No."

"So, you're just working off rumors and gossip? That sounds like a great plan." Laura kissed his cheek softly. "There's no point in worrying about something that probably isn't true."

"When did you become so logical?" he asked, relaxing slightly. "I just feel like we're losing her. I don't even recognize her anymore. I just wonder what we did wrong?"

Laura couldn't think of anything to say, so she changed the subject. "You know what will cheer you up? Planning a heist."

"Yes, larceny does always make me feel better. But it always seemed to get you upset? Have I finally corrupted you, sweet?" He kissed her gently and she luxuriated in it for a moment, wishing it was time to go home.

"It's for a case," she said as she pulled away, "Interpol wants us to steal a painting."

"Really. That's odd. I've always found their take on theft to be depressingly similar to your own."

"We're stealing it from a thief," she explained. "They know who has the painting, but he's some diplomat and they can't use the regular legal channels to get it from him. And so it comes down to us. If you think you can still manage."

"What are you implying?"

"Well," she teased, "We are both getting older. Maybe it's time to hang up the catsuit."

"Never," he said, kissing her again. "Besides, you look so good in it."

/

Sabrina looked like her mother, lanky with honey colored hair and slight frame. But her entire demeanor, from her devil-may-care attitude and the slight smile that always played on her lips… that was strictly from her father. She also had his eyes; not just their color but the ability to wall off true feelings behind them. You never really knew what she was thinking, although she also had her mother's temper, so chances are that she'd tell you anything on her mind. The Steele's had joked on more than one occasion that Sabrina was the perfect mix of all their best, and worst, qualities.

She walked into the office without any greeting to the receoptinst. They all knew her here. Without even knocking she let herself into the back office and sat down on the plush couch against the wall. He watched her behind the desk for a moment before sighing loudly.

"A sex tape?" he asked "Really?"

She shrugged as if she was bored by the whole conversation. "I do have a reputation to retain. You wouldn't want people thinking I'd gotten boring in my old age."

He couldn't help but laugh at her bravado. "You're 20. That's hardly old."

"By 20 my father had worked as an assassin and overthrown dictatorships. At least if you believe the myth of the great Remington Steele." She shook her head, as if trying to erase her thoughts, "Don't worry. It isn't real. I started the rumor to explain why I was going to skip Sundance. I need to keep a low profile the next few weeks, so…"

"I don't follow. Won't this make you even bigger news?"

"This is just step one. Next I start a story that I'm checking into a spiritual retreat in Sri-Lanka. While they're all in the jungles looking for me I'll be here working on the case." She pointed at the dossier in front of him.

"It's always business for you, isn't it Sabrina?" He walked to her and gently passed off the file folders. Immediately she began pouring through them, reading each word carefully until they were committed to memory.

Tony Roselli couldn't help but stare at her. She really did look just like her mother, he thought, as he began explaining the mission to her.

/


	2. Chapter 2

_You have 23 messages._

Sabrina shook her head as she began listening to the series of voice mails her parents had left for her. Her father, sounding furious as his accent became more pronounced, like it always did when he would become upset. On the other hand Mom spoke in precise and measured tones with warmth throughout. It was strange how her her parents were so in sync that they were able to play good cop/bad cop without even trying.

She wondered if they even realized that they did it. Whenever one of them would be angry with her the other would become more caring and comforting. Suddenly she remembered being 15 years old and having her mother bust into her room and asked her if she had taken the Auburn for a joyride.

"I don't have a license, how could I drive a car?" She looked at Laura with wide and innocent blue eyes, which just made her angrier.

"There's a ding on the front bumper, and someone had changed the radio to that rap station."

"It wasn't me." Sabrina turned her attention back to her magazine, but her mother snatched it from her hands.

"I don't know what is more exasperating. The fact that you would break the law and steal a car, or the fact that you are so comfortable lying about it."

From the doorway Remington cleared his throat. He nodded at Laura, signaling her to leave the room and take a break. After she was gone he sat on the edge of Sabrina's bed. "When I was 15 I actually was hot wiring cars to take for a ride. At least you had the courtesy to take something that practically belongs to you anyway."

Sabrina didn't deny his charge, she was more interested in his admission. "Dad, I can't believe you were a car thief!"

His face flushed slightly, "You can't have thought you were the first teenager to act rebellious and foolhardy. But you have to tell me, Sabrina, what did you think of the old Auburn? Isn't she a dream to drive?"

Sabrina leaned forward, making sure nobody could overhear them. "It was amazing. It felt like riding on a cloud. It was smoother than the BMW."

Remington cocked an eyebrow, "And when exactly were you driving the BMW?" She had ended up being grounded for a month.

When she walked into the offices of Remington Steele investigations Sabrina had the warm feeling of coming home. Growing up she had come to the office after school every day and taken up residence in a small office in the file room where she had her own desk and even a nameplate that matched her parents. She'd work on her homework while they handled cases, with Aunt Mildred keeping an eye on her when they had to go out. She missed Mildred. a few years ago she had married and retired from the office. They got emails and postcards all the time, but it wasn't the same as having her soothing presence.

"Sabrina!" Anna said when she walked in, "Is it true?"

"Probably not."

"I read Justin Timberlake was kissing you in the tabloids"

"I assure you, Justin Timberlake has never been anywhere near my tabloids." Sabrina pointed to the closed door of the office, "Are they here?"

"Yes. Do you want me to let them know you're here, or do you want to surprise them."

"I've busted in on my parents kissing enough times to know better than to go in there unannounced."

/

Looking over the blueprints for the mansion, Remington Steele felt 30 years younger. He finally understood why Daniel had stayed in the con game even after he had enough money to comfortably retire. It wasn't about the take, but about the excitement.

"It shouldn't be too hard," Laura said, in analytical mode, "Especially not with Agent Chambers with us."

"The way you say Agent Chambers," he mocked "Should I be jealous?"

"No. Although..." Laura drew out the word so it sounded as if it had 4 syllables. "I was thinking that maybe we should try and set him up with Sabrina."

"Excuse me, who are you and what have you done with my wife?"

Laura hit his arm, playfully. "I'm serious. You should have seen the way he looked when he saw Sabrina's picture on my desk. I could tell, he was intrigued."

"She's a beautiful girl. I think she gets it from my side of the family." He leaned over to kiss her when the intercom buzzed. Their timing hadn't gotten better over the years.

"Mr. and Mrs. Steele, Sabrina is here."

"Send in the prodigal," Remington said. Laura glared at him but he ignored it. Even though he had calmed down significantly from earlier in the day, he still was on edge. He'd showered and changed into the suit that he kept at the office, and on the outside he appeared the perfect image of Icy Calm. But he knew that it wouldn't take long for Sabrina to melt the facade. "You're going to have to be good cop," he told his wife.

"You're so much better at it," she complained, but the door opened before he could respond. Sabrina breezed in and started talking immediately.

"There is no tape. It's just a rumor. And, in the future, I'd appreciate it if you'd get your information on my life from me, and not from TMZ."

Laura couldn't help herself, "If we didn't go to TMZ we'd never know what was going on with you."

Sabrina rolled her eyes. "Really, maternal guilt. Is that what we're going to do?" She looked at the way they were hovering over blueprints on the desk. "What are you guys working on?"

"Nothing," Remington said, while Laura said. "A case."

"It's a case," he clarified, "But it's nothing that would interest you. Security. Boring stuff really. Not even sure why we took the damned thing."

"Uh huh," Sabrina nodded, not believing a word he said. There had been a time that she had thought that one day she'd be working at the agency with her parents, but her father had made it clear that wouldn't happen. Whenever she expressed any interest in their work he would start on a rambling speech about how boring it was, and tried to change the topic. Just like he was doing now.

"So," he said, putting an arm around his daughter's shoulder, "What has my little cover girl been doing today?"

"The usual. But it's nothing that would interest you. Modeling. Boring stuff really. Not even sure why I took the damned job." she mimicked him perfectly, right down to the accent, and Laura chuckled behind them. Even with all the tension it was natural for the Steele family to fall into familiar patterns of banter. Although it was also that type of banter that made them more likely to crack a joke than to really discuss a problem, and it worried Laura. While she could pull herself into serious mode from time to time it seemed that Remington and Sabrina were stuck communicating through one liners and sarcastic comments.

"So," Laura asked, "Did you just come here to update us on your rumor mill, or will you be able to come to dinner?"

Remington shook his head. The burglary was planned for that night, right after dinner with Agent Chambers. He didn't understand why Laura would be inviting Sabrina along. Realization came over him and he couldn't hide his smile.

"I can't come to dinner," Sabrina said, "I have to work tonight. Actually, I don't really even have time to hang around here. I just wanted to come by before you overloaded my voice mail." She leaned over and gave Remington a kiss on the cheek.

"You should come by for breakfast tomorrow," he said. "That is, if you are out of bed that early."

"You know me Daddy, I don't even go to be until 10 AM." Giving her mother a quick hug she left, leaving her parents staring at each other.

"Dinner? Really, Laura, you are serious about playing matchmaker!"

"I just think that her and Agent Chambers would hit it off."

"You must either really like the man or really hate him. I can think of few fates worse than being in love with Sabrina Steele." He crossed back to the desk and leaned close to his wife.

"She is a heart breaker," Laura said before kissing him, "She must get that from my side of the family."


	3. Chapter 3

_I'm not 100 happy with this chapter since its so much exposition, but I'm really trying to finish the story without getting caught up in making it perfect. I really don't want to get off track and leave it unfinished. So, I'm powering through._

* * *

Another day, another interrogation room. As Remington Steele leaned back in the hard metal chair he tried to sort out the events of the evening. Everything was going perfectly, which should have been the first sign of trouble. Interpol Agent Harry Chambers had been as charming and bright as Laura had said, and he listened intently through dinner as she talked about Sabrina's various accomplishments, all the way back to perfect attendance in elementary school.

Still, there was something about the guy that gave Steele pause. He laughed a little too quickly and smiled a bit too broadly. The well honed sense of self preservation that he had developed living on the streets was trying to warn him, but he'd ignored it. Now he was paying the price for it, he realized as he pulled his wrists against the handcuffs.

He and Laura had gotten the painting, but that's when everything got confusing. They handed it off to Chambers who took off just as two dozen armed men ran into the room and targeted him and Laura. And then Roselli walked in.

Anthony Roselli. There were many people in Remington Steele's past who had done him far more harm than the faux-archeologist/secret agent but there really wasn't anyone he hated with as much intensity. He hadn't been the only guy to try and take Laura away from him over the years, but the fact that he had the ill timing to come in just as their life together was really starting was what made him so odious.

He had even come to see Laura right before their real wedding. Laura had told Remington about it after the ceremony, imparting the news as if it was nothing more than the weather report.

"He asked me to runaway with him," he remembered Laura explaining as the couple shared the first dance at the reception. "He said that I deserved someone better than you, and that he would make me happier than you ever could."

"And?" Remington had asked.

"I'm here, aren't I? Doesn't that tell you everything you need to know?" After that Anthony Roselli faded away like a bad nightmare, until today. Remington Steele's first instinct was to have a replay of the rollicking fisticuffs they had shared in Ireland, but before he could throw the first punch another familiar face came into the room.

Sabrina.

She was clad in a pair of black slacks and white button down shirt, her brown hair back in a messy ponytail, looking much more like the school girl he remembered than the socialite she had become. "You were smart," she said as she walked into the room, "But not smart enough." She froze when saw her parents. For a moment her eyes flashed fear, but it was quickly replaced by anger. "Damn," she screamed, smacking her hand against the wall, "Where did he go?"

"We've got a squad searching the grounds," one of the agents told her "But there's nothing yet."

Laura was the first to find her voice. "What the hell is going on?"

"You're both under arrest," Sabrina said coldly. "And keep them separated. I don't want them coming up with some story." She turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, followed by Roselli.

This brought Remington Steele back to this interrogation room and his feelings of utter bafflement. Over the years he had solved numerous mysteries, both on his own and with Laura's help, but he couldn't come up with an explanation for the events of this evening. The only possibility was that his daughter was a CIA agent, but that was impossible.

"As impossible as a thief becoming a world famous crime fighter?"he asked himself. The door opened and Sabrina came in wearing a perfect poker face that didn't betray anything. As she took her seat across the table father and daughter locked identical eyes and held the stare, neither one wanting to be the one to look away first.

Finally, Remington cracked, letting out a low laugh that echoed in the room. "You know, when you told me you were signing with a new agency I assumed you meant modeling, not central intelligence."

"Well, that's the thing about assumptions," she replied, "They often lead us astray. For example, I'd always assumed that my father was Remington Steele. So, imagine my shock when I discovered that truth."

"I assure you, I am your father. Even though there are moments when I wish I weren't." He immediately regretted saying it, but his self-preservation instincts were taking over. At this moment he wasn't dealing with his daughter, but with another threat to the life he had created. He was going back to the old lessons Daniel had taught him about how to get out of a scrape. Throw them off their game. Rile up their emotions. Get them to act without thinking.

But Sabrina wasn't falling for them, since they were the same tricks she had learned. And so, with complete calm, she dumped out an envelope containing the passports that had been confiscated by Scotland Yard years before her birth. One by one she held them up, reading the names.

"Michael O'Leary. Richard Blaine. Douglas Quintaine. Paul Fabrini. Jacques Murell. Do you know the background that comes up when you search on these names?" She straightened in her seat and delivered a withering look. "So, when exactly were you planning on telling Mom that she was married to an international jewel thief?"

/

In an identical interrogation room next door a very different scene played out between Laura Steele and Tony Roselli, who were drinking coffee and chatting like old friends.

"How long has she been working as an agent?" Laura asked.

"Almost two years. Although I've only been working with her the last six months."

"You didn't recruit her?"

He held his hands up, "I swear I wasn't involved in that. You have to believe me, I wouldn't have brought your daughter into the agency without at least running the idea past you guys."

"We didn't exactly part on the best of terms."

He shook his head, surprised that she was so paranoid. "That was over 20 years ago. I've had two sons and three wives since then. And you and Steele are obviously happy. I think everything worked out. Besides, I still owe you guys for saving my ass back in Ireland. So, when I found out that Sabrina was working for the agency I decided to keep her out of trouble."

"A thankless job," Laura said from experience. "But I still don't understand why the CIA would want Sabrina working for them. I love her, but she isn't exactly known for her ability to make good decisions."

"That's not Sabrina. That's the act she uses to throw everyone off. Truth is, she is one of the best agents I've ever seen. She's got incredible instincts and she isn't afraid to follow them. And she's completely brilliant." He realized he was sounding more like a defensive father than a co-worker.

"Then why doesn't she just work for the CIA. Why run around town pretending to be Paris Hilton without the brains?"

"The hardest part of being a secret agent is the secret part. Someone who is traveling to exotic locations every week is going to be pegged as a spy in short order. But, if that person is an actor, or singer, or model suddenly they have the perfect cover to go anywhere."

Laura smiled as she realized that Sabrina really was living up to her potential. Any annoyance about being kept in the dark was overridden by the incredible pride she felt. Besides, she had some experience living a lie in the name of career.

"So," Tony said, distracting her form her thoughts, "I guess we should talk about tonight. Did you really fall for a fake ID? I would have thought you guys would know better than that."

"For your information, I checked Agent Chambers' out. His name and picture both matched what was in the database."

Tony frowned, disturbed by this turn of events. This was suddenly becoming much bigger than simply an art theft. "Laura, I'm going to round up some guys from the tech lab. We need to check your office for any information we can find on this guy."

"Are you asking me or telling me?" she bristled. It was late, and she just wanted to sit down with her family and sort everything out. "I'll take you in the morning, but right now I just want to see Remington and Sabrina. Where are they?"

"Next door," he admitted, "But you don't want to go in there. Not now anyway."

Laura felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand at attention. "What aren't you telling me?"

"She knows." Tony didn't need to specify what it was, because it was the shadow that was always hanging just behind everything they did.

"I'll take you to the office," Laura agreed, "But first, I want to see my family."


	4. Chapter 4

"When exactly were you going to tell Mom that she was married to an international jewel thief

"When exactly were you going to tell Mom that she was married to an international jewel thief?"

"Laura knows all about my past. But it really isn't any of your business."

Anger flashed in her blue eyes. "That's where you're wrong. This is my business. Because treason is still punishable by the death penalty, and I don't want to be an orphan."

Remington shook his head, feeling as if he had whiplash from the sudden conversational shift. "Treason? I don't know what Anthony Roselli has been telling you but…"

"This has nothing to do with Tony," she interrupted. "Wait, how do you even know Tony?"

Laura and Tony weren't even noticed as they entered the room as father and daughter were too intent on their verbal sparring match. "Guys," she said, her voice not registering over their argument. "Hello," she repeated a little louder, but still nothing. Finally she let out an ear piercing whistle.

"That's better," she said when they finally shut up.

"Really Laura, was that necessary? We were just having a friendly conversation. In fact, I was about to tell Sabrina about how we first met Mr. Roselli. Although perhaps it would be more telling to let her in on when we last saw him." Remington locked eyes with Roselli.

"Really Tony," he continued, "I know that we had our problems, but bringing my daughter into it? It's a little low, even for you."

Laura held her hands in a T shape. "OK, time out. In case everyone forgot, we still have a fake Interpol agent to deal with. So, let's take a break from the bickering." Laura noticed her husband in handcuffs and shook her head. "Sabrina, will you let him out of those things?"

"I don't think I can trust him not to escape." Laura's face flushed with anger, but before she could respond Tony quickly took a set of keys out of his pocket and unshackled Remington.

"Even if he does get away," Tony joked, "you know where he lives." All three Steele's just glared at him, not finding the situation funny.

"We need to talk," Sabrina told him, "Outside."

As the door closed behind them Remington felt Laura's hands on his tense shoulders. She squeezed them gently and planted a soft kiss on the top of his head. "Are you reconsidering that decision not to hang up the catsuit?"

He allowed himself to relax under her touch. "No. But I am reconsidering my decision not to lock that girl away until she's 30. I can't believe that Roselli…"

Laura squeezed his shoulders. "Don't be mad at Tony."

"Tony? Are you two friends again? Have you forgotten the mess that man made of the first few weeks of out marriage?"

"So many questions," she teased. "Besides, I think that you and I are more responsible for that mess than anyone else. If we hadn't been so busy trying to force the other one to declare their feelings first…"

Wasted time, he thought. They had both spent years trying to protect their own hearts by waiting for the other one to make their feelings known, but in the end it didn't matter. As wonderful as it was to be loved by Laura, it wasn't as wonderful as loving her. It was something he had learned about love over the years; that happiness comes from showing people how you feel for them instead of waiting to see how much they love you.

It had been fatherhood that had made that clear to him. He remembered the day Laura told him she was pregnant. Or, more precisely, the day Mildred told him that Laura was pregnant. The secretary, and mother hen of the office, kept coming in to ask him if he'd heard from Laura.

"You answer the phones Mildred. You'd be the one who'd hear from her." He went back to work, which at that moment was deciding which color he wanted his new suit. "Besides, she just had a Doctor's appointment. It's nothing serious."

"I don't know," she said knowingly, "It could be serious. It could be life changing."

"Do you know something I don't?"

Mildred shook her head. "I don't KNOW anything. But I have a pretty good theory."

"Been playing Detective, eh?" He leaned back in his chair and nodded. "Well, why don't you run your little theory past an expert in the field?"

Mildred took a long moment before taking the seat across from him. "Well, we know that Mrs. Steele has been having that upset stomach the last week, but it comes and goes without warning. And she's been more emotional than usual. And she was so exhausted you actually caught her taking a nap yesterday afternoon. Put that all together and you know what it sounds like?" She leaned forward and whispered, "I think she's pregnant."

Remington laughed. "Pregnant. That's impossible. See…" He couldn't finish the sentence. Of course it was possible that Laura was pregnant. They hadn't been trying to have a child, but no method of contraception was 100 reliable, except for the self imposed celibacy that had lasted the first 4 years of their relationship. Now that they had crossed that line, repeatedly and excitedly, it meant that a baby was possible.

"Hillo," Laura called from the waiting area, "Where is everyone?"

"We're in here," Mildred called, giving the boss a thumbs up. He nodded, the color leaving his face. When Laura walked in Mildred started mumbling about needing to go file something and left quickly. The Steele's were alone.

"So…" they both said at the same time.

"Ladies first," he offered.

"Okay," she sat on the edge of his desk. "I was wondering if you've signed the Maybelle Contracts yet."

"That's what you were wondering?"

She nodded, feeling uncomfortable under his intense stare. "Is there something on my face? You're looking at me like I have two heads."

"Well… do you?" He shook his head and rephrased the question. "Did you find anything out at your appointment?"

She looked away, staring at her shoes. "That? It's no big deal. I'm just… well… I'm going to have a baby." She shrugged. "But it's nothing. The doctor said I can keep working. I might have to stay behind a desk, but you hate paperwork anyway so it isn't a big deal."

"It's kind of a big deal," he disagreed, putting his hand on her knee. She pushed it away.

"I don't understand why you have to turn this into a production. Women have babies' everyday."

"They don't have my baby everyday," he countered.

"Thank goodness for small miracles," Laura shot back. She stood up to storm out of the room but Remington gently took her wrist and pulled her so that she was sitting on his lap. She didn't pull away from him, but she didn't snuggle closer either. It was a détente.

He decided to try and lighten the mood. "Mildred figured it out. I hadn't even considered the possibility."

"Some detective you are," she shot back, slowly letting herself mold into his embrace. In the safety of his arms she was finally able to voice her fears. "I'm going to be a terrible mother. I'm not nearly as maternal as my sister."

"Nonsense. You're going to be an amazing mother. Motherhood is more than cooking and sewing. At least I assume it is… I never actually had a mother." The words sounded more bitter than he had intended.

"You're going to be a pretty good father too," Laura told him, giving him a soft kiss. He decided not to argue with her, even though he deeply doubted his own parenting abilities. The only role model he had was Daniel, and he suspected Laura wouldn't appreciate him passing along those lessons. Still, even as he was scared and overwhelmed, he was happy. Because he loved this child. Without even knowing it's gender or personality or what it looked like, Remington Steele was completely in love with it.

The memory faded away and he reminded himself that he still loved that child. Even if she had grown up to be the second most infuriating woman he'd ever known, he still loved her. "I have to work things out with Sabrina."

Laura nodded, "You guys can stay here and talk while Tony and I go to the office…" Sensing his shoulder tense again she added, "along with about a dozen other agents."

"I don't know how you can be so nice to that man. He is placing her life in danger."

"Tony is trying to protect her." Laura started walking to the door, "Why don't you have Sabrina explain it to you during your little talk? You tell her your secret and she'll tell you hers."

Sabrina walked back into the room, although it wasn't walking as much as being physically pushed by Tony. She heard Laura's statement and shook her head. "I really don't feel like talking to him anymore."

"Too bad," Laura said as she left the room. "I'm locking this door from the outside and you two are staying in there until you have everything worked out."


	5. Chapter 5

Sabrina jiggled the handle of the door a few times before giving up and realizing her mother really had locked them in here

Sabrina jiggled the handle of the door a few times before giving up and realizing her mother really had locked them in here. "Typical," she muttered, "This is just like the plot in one of those stupid old sitcoms she watches. Like locking us in a room together is going to solve all our problems."

"Are you that angry at me?" There was something so pitiful about the way that Remington looked at her, with pleading blue eyes and hangdog expression, that for a moment she forgot exactly why she was so furious. The pile of passports on the table reminded her and she crossed her arms across her chest.

"You don't know what it's like to find out that someone you trust completely is lying to you. That they have been lying to you for 20 years."

"Oh, I think I understand." Remington couldn't help but appreciate the irony of the situation. Sabrina's expression was the exact look he had when Daniel had confessed to being his father. For the first time he understood how his father must have felt during that confession, and why he had put it off for so long. No father ever wants to see their child look at them with disappointment.

"We might as well make a go of it," he finally suggested, "Ask me anything and I'll answer it, but in exchange you need to answer a question of mine."

She opened the file in front of her and looked at it carefully, taking it very seriously. After a full minute she asked, "What's your real name?"

He felt a sense of déjà vu. How many times had Laura asked him that very question? "I don't know," he said honestly.

"You don't know? How can you not know what your name is?"

He shook his head, "Sorry, you'll have to answer one of my questions first. Why are you working for Anthony Roselli?"

"I'm not working for him. My turn."

Remington closed his eyes and felt a headache coming on. At this rate they'd be here for the next three months. "No more questions," he said, "It's time for the truth. You better get comfortable, because this is going to be a long story." He took a deep breath and realized he wasn't sure how to even begin.

"I don't know what my name is," he finally said, "Because I didn't have anyone to give me one." He told her the bits and pieces of his childhood that he remembered. "It wasn't that bad," he said when he realized Sabrina was starting to cry. Actually, it had been somewhat worse than what he had been telling her, but he hadn't meant to upset her.

"I can't even imagine what that must have been like," she sobbed.

Remington handed her his handkerchief, letting his hand squeeze hers in the process. "I'm glad you can't imagine it. We worked very hard so that you'd never have to want for anything in the world. I just wanted you to have everything I didn't, especially a family."

Sabrina looked down, a few loose strands of hair falling over her eyes. She wanted to stay mad at him, but it wasn't easy. "Wait," she said, piecing things together, "If you didn't know who your father was, then what's with all those stories you told about my Grandpa Daniel?"

"I was fifteen when I met him," he said wistfully. "I picked his pocket. Well, tried to anyway. He knew what was up and said that he liked my style. Took me under his wing and took me on as his protégée. Taught me everything about his business."

"And that business was?"

"Gentleman thief." Sabrina took a deep breath. The news hadn't actually surprised her. Given what she had uncovered in her own investigation into her father's background she had known he was a con man and thief. What was unexpected was the nonchalant was he talked about that life. As if it was just another day at the office.

"It wasn't like we were bilking little old ladies! We had ethics about it. We we're like Robin Hood," Remington explained, "We robbed from the rich and gave to the poor. Just so happened that the poor were us. It wasn't until many years later that I learned that Daniel was actually my biological father also." Sabrina was looking down at the table, the same way Laura always looked away when she was trying to keep her defenses up. Remington placed his hand on his daughter's chin and tilted it up so that he could see her eyes.

"I do understand what it's like to feel betrayed. To feel like you've been lied to by someone you care about. I also know how much better it feels after you forgive them."

She closed her eyes and pulled away from him. "There's still a lot of gaps I need filled in."

"I have some gaps of my own. Like at what point did my daughter go from top model to top secret?"

Sabrina shrugged. He had taken the time to answer her questions; it only seemed fair that she do the same. "It's really your fault if you think about it," she began, "Because I wanted to spend that summer working at the agency."

Remington didn't need to ask which summer, because he remembered the argument he and Laura had about it. It was the summer before Sabrina's senior year and Laura had thought it was the perfect time to start Sabrina in an internship at the Remington Steele Agency. She had even had business cards made up with their daughters name on it. The only thing she hadn't done was discuss the plan with him.

"Absolutely Not!" Remington had admonished, "I'm not placing Sabrina in the line of fire. It's too dangerous."

Laura was furious about his reaction. It was so reminiscent of all the things her own family had told her when she announced she wanted to be a P.I. "Sabrina's not exactly a shrinking violet. And I suspect if she was your son instead of your daughter, you'd be too happy to have her in the family business."

"Laura, this isn't about gender politics. I'm not worried that she's a girl. I'm worried because she's…" the word's died in his throat. Laura placed her hands on her hips and motioned for him to continue. "I'm worried because she's too much like me."

Laura softened slightly and took her husbands hand in her own. "So, what if she's like you. I turned you into a pretty good detective. I could do the same with her."

Remington shook his head. "When we met I was older. I'd already gotten it out of my system. You didn't know me when I was Sabrina's age. I was reckless, fearless, and addicted to the adrenaline that came from being too close to the action."

Laura thought back to her own past and blushed slightly, remembering her own experience working through her adolescent angst. "Everyone acts like that. We all grow out of it."

"No, not everyone does grow out of it. And I could name of two dozen mates I knew back home who didn't get a chance to grow out of their rebellious years." He wasn't going to budge. It was hard enough to watch Laura place herself in danger when a case suddenly turned from routine to violent. But at least he knew his wife was level headed enough to extract herself from a dangerous situation. When shots rang out Sabrina was more likely to run towards them than away.

Remington tried to erase the thoughts of Sabrina being hurt. "I can't lose her. I almost lost her the day she was born, and I thought it would kill me. And that was back when she was just a stranger that had taken up residency in your womb. Now that we know her and have watched her grow up, how on earth could we risk putting her in danger?"

Laura pulled her husband against her and let him hold her for a long time. They didn't argue anymore about bringing Sabrina on at the agency. Laura just told her that they decided it was a bad idea, and put the box of business cards away to wait for some day in the future.

That was the summer that Sabrina began hanging out with the other children of privilege in the posh Beverly Hills private school she went to, even though she had trouble fitting in with them. They considered her to be the poor kid because her parents worked while everyone else lived off old money trust funds. But they were powerfully connected, and were obsessed with fashion and status. It was through them that she got her first modeling job. It was also how she got her first tabloid headline, when she was caught using a fake ID to get into a club.

"You know most of this story already," Sabrina told her father, looking around the interrogation room in an attempt to avoid eye contact. "I was Sabrina Steele, LA's favorite good girl gone bad. Honestly, it was pretty boring after a while. All the parties start to look the same, and so to all the faces once the plastic surgeons get a hold of them. I was planning on going to college after graduation, I really was, but that's when the CIA contacted me and asked me to use my celebrity status to help them with cases. Keep an eye on suspects. Plant bugs. Sneak information. I'm actually pretty good at it."

"Did Roselli recruit you?"

Sabrina rolled her eyes. "What is it with your obsession with him? I didn't even meet Tony until 6 months ago when he…"

"Yes?"

Sabrina inhaled sharply. In one quick breath she said, "When he saved my life." Seeing his fury Sabrina flashed her most charming smile. "It wasn't really a big deal. I just sort of got over my head with the target I was supposed to be watching and Tony sort of… well… he helped me out. Besides, the real question is how do you know him?"

"Helped him out on a case a long time ago," Remington answered nonchalantly. All the bad feelings that had built up against Anthony Roselli over the years washed away with the news that he had saved Sabrina's life. He suddenly felt like taking the man out to dinner, if only to get more of the story out of him. On second thought, he really didn't want to know exactly how dangerous Sabrina's work was in case it confirmed his worst fears.

"So you worked on a case together?" Sabrina asked. "That's what he told me in the hall when I asked him about it. He said that you helped him out during the cold war, which reminded me that you are all really old. But it doesn't explain why whenever you say his name you look like you're going to punch something, and it doesn't explain why he never told me that he knew you."

"Maybe he thought you were related to some other Remington Steele," he offered.

"How did you come up with the name Remington Steele?" She pointed at the passports, "I noticed all your other aliases were Humphrey Bogart characters. But Remington Steele…"

"Was your mother's invention." Sabrina noticed how his face lit up when talking about how he had become Remington Steele. While the rest of tonight's confession had been presented with dull factualism, the story of Remington Steele reminded her of the fairy tales he would tell her as a child, stories where the Princess and the Pirate would meet and fall instantly in love and work together to fight the bad guys. As he finished the story, Sabrina also realized something else. "That's why you guys always took me to see that Royal Lavulite exhibit when it came passing through town!"

He nodded. "If it hadn't been for those gems it's very likely that I'd be in jail someplace and you would have never been born."

"And Mom?"

"I always assumed Laura would have managed to land on her feet." It was a sentiment he had never admitted out loud before. At the end of the day he really did think that he needed Laura more than she needed him. She would have disagreed and argued with him over it. "Although, I'd like to think that she wouldn't be quite as happy without us in her life."

Sabrina stifled a yawn. They had been talking for an hour, but she felt like it had been much longer. She was emotionally drained from the events of this evening, but there was one final question that was echoing in her brain. "Daddy," she said, "Why didn't you just tell me?"

That was a question that he didn't really have an answer for. "I guess the timing was never right," he offered. "What was I supposed to say? Santa Clause doesn't exist and neither do I?

"But there's more to it than that. The truth is that for the last 25 years I've been Remington Steele. It isn't just another alias I adopted. It's who I am. I never really thought about telling you the truth, because it doesn't seem true anymore. The life before I came to LA seems like it happened to somebody else."

He pursed his lips for a moment. "Actually, that's not true. It's partially true, but I don't really feel like Remington Steele. In the back of my mind I know that was just some name your mother tossed together in a moment of desperation. The truth is, there's only been one name that ever felt right to me. One name that felt like it was truly meant for me."

Remington reached across the table and held Sabrina's hands. They still seemed so small to him, like the hands that he held as he crossed the street with her on the way to school. They were much bigger now, but in his mind they would still be the soft little hand that had reached out of her baby blanket to wrap around his finger and squeeze.

"Harry. Michael. Paul. Remington. They were all just things that people called me. They weren't really my name. But when you first called me Daddy… that's when I realized exactly who I was supposed to be."

Sabrina couldn't help but start crying. "Oh Daddy." She hugged him tightly, knocking the wind out of him slightly. Feeling like the moment was turning too sappy she joked, "I understand why Mom can't ever stay mad at you."

"I can be pretty charming," he admitted. "Are you ready to get out of here?"

"I'm exhausted. But who knows how long Mom and Roselli," she growled the name, imitating her father, "will be gone."

"We don't need them." He grabbed a paper clip off the table. "Don't tell me that you don't know how to pick a lock?"

"I'm with the federal government. We don't pick locks, we break doors."

Remington gave a tsk sound as he unfolded the clip and placed it into the lock. "I can't believe how badly we neglected your education. Lesson one, Sabrina, when you're trying to pick a lock it's all in the wrist."


	6. Chapter 6

Okay, I've hit a massive amount of writer block on this story just as I've fallen in love with the movie Iron Man (the Pepper and Tony dynamic is very Remington and Laura). So, here's what I decided. I'm revamping this story so that I can wrap it all up. At least for now. If/When I come up with a solution for my plot problems I'll write a sequel to it. This seemed like the best solution. I may take some of the flashbacks I wrote in later chapters and expand them into their own stories.

So, here it is, the new final chapter of Steelecrets and Lies!

It was after midnight when Laura got home. They had purchased the two story mini mansion in Pasadena shortly after she'd learned that she was pregnant. Even though all the baby books had warned that it was the mother who would have the instinct to nest, in their case he had been the one who needed to create a perfect home.

"We need a house with a big yard," he insisted while they drove to the 6th open house of the day. "Asta is going to need space to play."

"Asta?" Laura asked, "I'm not naming my child Asta Steele."

"The Thin Man," he said, exasperated. "William Powell and Myrna Loy play Nick and Nora Charles, married detectives who solve crimes in between martinis. Asta is the name of their dog, and it would be a wonderfully witty name for our own pet."

"You want a dog? Isn't that a big commitment?"

"We're buying a house and having a child! Comparatively, getting a little nipper from the pound doesn't even register on the commitment scale." He parked the Auburn outside the next house they were looking at, a Spanish style home with a pool and a three-car-garage. He tried to imagine himself in the neighborhood taking the theoretical dog for a walk while Laura walked next to him, pushing a baby carriage. It set a perfect scene.

"Do you know how terrible the commute is going to be?" Laura asked, always looking at the practical side of things. "It'll take two just to come home." She knew better than to complain about the time it took to come into the office, since he would just as well sleep in past rush hour.

"We live in LA, everything's a 2 hour drive," he pointed out, offering his wife his arm. She looped her arm through his and started into the house. A little over 4 months pregnant she had begun to show, despite her best efforts to hide under baggy sweaters.

When they walked into the home the realtor started screaming in her direction about a nursery. "You'll love it," she assured Laura leading the Steele's upstairs. "It's connected to the Nanny's room, which makes things so much easier."

Laura and Remington exchanged a nervous glance. They had avoided talking about who exactly would be looking after their child once it was here. Laura, of course, wanted to work but the idea of someone else raising her child made her bristle. The couple oohed and ahhed appropriately throughout the tour, but it wasn't heartfelt. He felt like the pool was too mundane, just a simple kidney shape without a single waterfall, while she didn't want a pool at all because of the upkeep involved. As they toured the kitchen, Laura felt like it was too ornate and formal, while Remington balked at the idea of having electric appliances instead of gas. Everyone knew that it was impossible to get an even heating surface with electric. As the tour concluded they had both independently decided that this was not going to be their home, when the realtor mentioned a basement.

"Basement?" Laura asked, "I thought homes in California couldn't have basements because of the earthquakes?"

The realtor shook her head, "It's not impossible. It's just very expensive to build them to meet code requirements. It is highly unusual, but the man who built the home was insistent on having one." She paused, nervously, "Now, before I take you down, let me remind you that this is really a blank canvas. Don't feel limited by what he used the rooms for. It would be a great space for a child's playroom or a game room of some kind." At the bottom of the stairs was a spacious office with bookshelves built into the walls.

"The previous owner used to work out of here," the realtor explained. "There's even a back entrance so that he could have business meetings without having to come through the main house. It's also connected with multiple phone lines and all of the other amenities of the modern office. But, like I said, you could turn it into something else."

Laura didn't hear her, she was already imagining being able to work on cases from home. Between the phone, fax machine, and computer she could get a lot of work done without being at the office. That would solve the problem of the commute, as well as making it easier for her to spend time with the baby while still working. She was about to tell Remington about her plan when she realized he was missing. Walking through the open door to the next room she found him watching "Casablanca" projected on a screen the size of the wall.

"It's called a media room," the realtor said, "But, really, you can tear the whole thing out and replace it."

"Why would you do that?" Remington said, in shock. The idea of someone getting rid of this home theater appalled him. It was an ingenious idea. Using projection technology the image would go from the VCR through a special projector and then the special screen. Because the room was underground there was no natural light so it was just like sitting inside a dark movie theater.

They made an offer on the house that day.

Laura was nervous to see how Remington's conversation with Sabrina had gone. She would have thought that she would have been able to come to some type of acceptance in the spirit of family unity. Of course, 24 hours ago she would have never guessed her daughter was actually a spy. So maybe she didn't know the girl as well as she assumed.

But she did know her husband, which is why the first place she looked for him was in the basement media room. He was sitting on a black leather couch watching images flicker on the screen. Instead of a classic movie, it was the home movies they had taken of Sabrina as a child.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Laura asked, sitting next to him. Remington put his arm around her shoulder, the tension leaving his body at her nearness. Even after all these years he was amazed by how her very presence could help make him feel better.

"I'm wondering at what point it happened. When exactly did she go from the little girl who couldn't hold a thought in her head without sharing it to this relative stranger?" They looked at the images that played before them. It was Christmas Eve, that was clear from the large Christmas tree that the family was gathered around. And it was the whole family; Laura's mother, the Piper's, and even Mildred. Holding court in the middle of them was Sabrina, acting like the belle of the ball. She was almost five years old, with long brown hair that was pulled back in a ponytail that came to her mid back and she was shuffling a deck of cards, or at least doing the best she could with her stubby fingers.

"Mommy," she announced, fanning out the card, "Pick one!" Laura obliged, picking a card and looking at it seriously. Sabrina stared at the card for a moment before turning to her father. "Daddy," she pouted, "These are the wrong cards. I need the ones in the marked deck."

"Marked deck?" Laura muttered, staring at her husband.

"Yeah," Sabrina explained happily, while Remington was motioning to her to be quiet. "See, the cards all have little symbols on the back so you can tell what they are. It's the cards Daddy always uses when you guys are playing against each other."

Laura was furious on the tape, but as she watched the scene now she couldn't help but laugh. Remington laughed as well, releasing all of the pent up anger of the last 24 hours with humor. It was a cleansing laugh, like the one they had shared in the Hotel del Amore during their nightmare Mexican honeymoon.

"You we're so angry at me," he remembered. "Although not as angry as the time that we were called in for the parent's conference because she did a "3 Card Monty" game as part of show and tell."

Laura leaned her body closer to his, still shaking with laughter. "That was priceless. Although not as good as you trying to convince the Dean that it was a perfectly acceptable lesson in probability."

He stopped laughing. "Do you think that I should have worked harder to keep her away from the more colorful aspects of my life?" When Sabrina was a little girl it only seemed natural to teach her the things that Daniel had taught him, although he dressed them up as games instead of cons. It was just innocent fun. But as she got older and had started understanding the moral ambiguity involved, he had abruptly stopped. He didn't bring her along to meet his old friends who were passing through town anymore. No more card tricks or slights of hand. Now he wondered if things would have been different if he had been more restrained when she was younger. Then again, maybe the problem had been backing away.

"Don't feel guilty. There are just as many stories about her getting in trouble because she was playing private detective like me. The only way we could have changed things was to be different people." She kissed him lightly on the cheek. "Even then, I think she was just genetically pre-disposed to troublemaking."

"What did you and Anthony find out?" He was obviously changing the topic, but she went along with it.

"Someone hacked into the database to plant the information before we searched on it, and then removed it afterwards. But they were able to pull up the information. He thinks that they'll have his real name in the morning, after that, it's just a matter of tracking him down."

"When they do, I think we owe the fellow a thank you. If he hadn't gotten us involved in this scam who knows when, or if, Sabrina and I would have a heart to heart. So, did Anthony tell you anything else?"

"I found out that Tony has three children. 15, 12, and 8. All boys."

"Of course," Remington joked, "That's how he's been able to keep from having any grey hairs. Daughter's are much more stressful."

Laura ran her fingers through his hair. "I like the grey. It makes you look distinguished."

"I'd prefer dashing over distinguished any day of the week."

"Well, maybe you're dashing AND distinguished." She leaned in for a kiss but he pulled away.

"Did Anthony say anything else?"

Laura couldn't contain her sudden anger. "I can't believe that after all this time you still don't trust me. If I wanted to be with him I would have done it years ago. I love you."

"And I love you too. But that wasn't what I meant. I was wondering if he told you anything about Sabrina. About how dangerous her work really is." He was remembering his daughter's admission about needing to be rescued a few months earlier, and he still wondered if it was an aberration. How much danger was she really putting herself in?

"Tony said that she's one of the best agents he's ever worked with. That she has a natural gift for undercover work. He also agrees with something you always said, that she's more likely to run towards danger than away from it."

Remington bit back a comment about how he and Anthony Roselli had always had similar tastes. He really wasn't jealous of the man. How could he be? There was no doubt that Laura loved him. But hating the man had become a habit, and it would take time to break it.

"Are you and Sabrina okay?" Laura finally asked.

"We're better than okay," Sabrina said from the doorway. "I think we may actually be on the precipice of liking each other."

"Come now," Remington said, motioning for her daughter to enter the room. "You know I love you, don't you?"

"Sure. I love you too. But that doesn't mean that I always like you, or that you always like me." She sank onto the arm of the couch. "But I think we can work on it. Starting now." She reached into her purse and pulled out a DVD.

"Ever since our talk," she said, hiding the disc behind her back, "I've had this strange desire to watch a movie with you." She presented it to him with both hands, as if it was something of great value.

"Paper Moon?" Remington laughed. It was only fitting that she'd pick a movie about a father/daughter conman team. He had to admit, ever since learning she had been secretly working as a CIA agent, he'd been thinking about ways he could use her talents at the agency. Or in one of the side projects that popped up from time to time. If only Daniel were here, he would have had a ball teaching Sabrina the art of the con. Although, after her performance these last few years, maybe the girl had already mastered it.

Remington popped the movie in and then leaned back, basking in the flickering light from the screen. Laura was on his left, drowsily laying her head on his chest as she fell in and out of sleep. To his right, Sabrina was sitting in rapt attention, asking questions about how realistic the movie was and listening to the stories about his life.

Tomorrow they would probably be fighting again. He and Sabrina both lived up to their Irish heritage with their passionate arguments and stubbornness. It as just a matter of time until they were having another row. But he didn't worry about it. Right now, for the first time in years, the Steele family was together. That was good enough for him.


End file.
